


A Little Less Interrogation, A Little More Alcohol

by pixeldreamer



Series: He Said, “Why Don’t You Just Drop Dead?” [1]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), Panic! at the Disco
Genre: A Little Less Sixteen Candles A Little More "Touch Me" (Video), Alternate Universe - A Little Less Sixteen Candles (Music Video), Card Games, Drunk Brendon, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Past Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie, Vampire Brendon Urie, Vampire Pete Wentz, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 17:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13392858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixeldreamer/pseuds/pixeldreamer
Summary: “We just need information on how we can get in.” Patrick said. “You don’t need to recite what we already know.”“I’ll give you that information if…” Patrick prepared himself to hear Brendon’s ridiculous demand, but Brendon then said, “you let me play cards with you. And give me a drink or two.”“Well, we can’t exactly let you drink our blood, but-”“It’s not blood I want, Stump. I meant alcohol.” Brendon held out his cuffed hands. “I won’t do anything rash, you can keep the cuffs around my ankles. Just let me play some goddamn cards and drink.”————————Brendon Urie gets kidnapped by Fall Out Boy and gets drunk, which ensues sobbing about Ryan.





	A Little Less Interrogation, A Little More Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wolf_Lettuce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf_Lettuce/gifts).



Brendon waltzed down the streets, adjusting the tip of his hat quickly with the tip of his finger and grinning widely, fangs bared, as he thought of Fall Out Boy’s defeat whilst he took his usual path back to headquarters. The Dandies would worry about the vampire hunting group no more, as they were currently in police cars heading for the police station, where they would be slammed with charges such as premeditated murder. They would be sent off to prison, and a few more wannabe vampire hunting troupes would pop up in rebellion and be rapidly suppressed, and the Dandies would have full control of Chicago.

He licked the blood off his lips from one of the maidens he had killed, and chuckled as he prowled the streets. The night was silent, the only noises emitted being the running of pipes or snoring of the poor immigrant families in their falling-apart houses with torn and stained formerly-pastel shingles. Perhaps Brendon and a few other Dandies would come back to the area the next night to terrorize the Syrian and Sudanese refugees who thought they would finally be safe in the Dandy neighborhoods that been abandoned by those who finally scraped together enough money to leave the life of prey behind. He scraped his nails along one of the mailboxes as he passed by, laughing as he could already hear the future screams and accented pleas by those desperate to be left in peace.

He heard the scrape of car wheels as it sharply turned the corner and a splash as it went through a puddle. Brendon didn’t look behind him to see the car, as it was of no concern to him. He was trying to have a nice, relaxing walk, and he would not let anyone interrupt his glee in the defeat of Fall Out Boy, as the next few nights would be filled with rowdy partying and establishing dominance over Chicago with numerous killings. He just needed a few minutes of solitude to himself, and that was all he really wanted at that moment.

The car behind him skidded to a stop, and Brendon finally turned around, ready to get vengeance on whatever terrible driver was disturbing him. However, he was soon petrified with shock when he saw Patrick and Pete jumping out the front seats of a stolen police car with their weapons and charging toward Brendon. Brendon scowled at the knowledge of their escape and turned around to flee, but he saw that behind him Andy and Joe had been creeping close to him, too close for comfort. They surrounded him, and he prepared to lunge at one of them, but his back was doused with holy water to incapacitate him.

“You fuckers!” Brendon hissed out, the water soaking his formerly-pristine suit and burning through the layers of his back. It sent agony up his spine, and he fell to the ground on his knees. He had been taken down so easily, and yet he was supposed to be one of the most powerful vampires in Chicago, William Beckett’s right-hand man. He had the foolish notion that everything had been fixed and a facade of safety had fallen about him, but now reality slapped him in the face; Fall Out Boy would never be so easily defeated as Brendon had.

The world was dizzy as he shrieked and hissed at the blurry figures that had closed around him, and hissed as further pain was inflicted by the locking of silver handcuffs around his wrist. Somebody (most likely Pete that he thought dazedly) heaved him up and threw him into the back trunk of the police car, and another pair of silver handcuffs were enclosed around his ankles to further limit his movement, and Brendon fell unconscious to the gentle slam of the trunk, faint cheering of the hunters outside, and the celebratory blasting of a pop song in the car.

 

When he awoke, Brendon could hear whispers from behind the door. “He’ll wake up soon, it’s just past dusk and this is usually when Pete rises, anyway.” There were streaks of flickering light emanating from underneath the door from a lightbulb. There was a shuffling of cards as they were dealt in the next room and someone asking for an ace, then somebody screaming “Slap jack!” and cards being swept to the floor. Pete was scolded for trying to play the wrong game, and Patrick started to list off the rules for Go Fish, then Andy suggesting they try playing euchre instead. 

Brendon was laid on a musty couch in the darkness, and his restraints were still burning into his flesh. He sat up, and adjusted himself to a more comfortable position to sit in. There was a piece of cloth tied around his mouth, and he reached up with his fingers to pry it down with the limited reach he had with the handcuffs.

“Hey!” Brendon called out. “I’m awake. Come out and torture me, bitches! What the hell do you want to know about Beckett? I’m all ears!”

Somebody set down their stack of cards, and Brendon heard a chair being pushed back and squeaking against the floor. Somebody took a keyring that jingled as they sorted through the keys and then inserted into the keyhole, and the door unlocked. The doorknob twisted slowly out of caution, and Patrick stepped into the dim room and flicked on the light switch.

“I just got to inform you to not attempt to escape, everyone’s got holy water and stakes on hand.” Patrick said.

“So, what the fuck do you want? Hurry up with it. You should have just killed me on the spot and left me for the sun, so what do you want to know? I’m not nice when I’m impatient.”

“We want you to tell us where the Dandy’s headquarters are.” Patrick stated.

“Okay, well, there’s a few things wrong with that. First of all, it would have been a lot easier for you to just follow me there. Second of all, if you’re planning on a raid, you’ll be decimated. There’s too many vampires crawling around there for you to even get close, and it’s way more than you could estimate. Even I don’t know exactly, we don’t exactly have a daily census.” Brendon shrugged. “We sire new vampires every day. The college dorms and refugee families are a gold mine of fresh blood and fresh vampires. If you’re planning on killing yourselves painfully, you may as well just have stayed passive in those police cars.”

“We just need information on how we can get in.” Patrick said. “You don’t need to recite what we already know.”

“I’ll give you that information if…” Patrick prepared himself to hear Brendon’s ridiculous demand, but Brendon then said, “you let me play cards with you. And give me a drink or two.”

“Well, we can’t exactly let you drink our blood, but-”

“It’s not blood I want, Stump. I meant alcohol.” Brendon held out his cuffed hands. “I won’t do anything rash, you can keep the cuffs around my ankles. Just let me play some goddamn cards and drink.”

Patrick looked back through the open door to look at Pete, Joe, and Andy, who all just shrugged.

“Fine.” Patrick sorted through the keys on the keyring and unlocked the handcuffs, setting them aside, and held out his arm. “I’ll help you over to the table, since your legs are cuffed.”

Brendon got up with the assistance of Patrick’s arm, and hopped over to the table. Joe began shuffling and dealing a new set of cards, Patrick offered Brendon his chair and then went to grab another one, and Andy moved his katana a little closer. Pete was at the cabinet, opening it to reveal about a dozen bottles of alcohol.

“Okay, so we have vodka, chartreuse, red wine, white wine, brandy, gin, and there’s some beer in the fridge, too. I think I could mix you a margarita, also, but I’m out of practice.” Pete said.

“I’ll take a beer.” Brendon said. He reached up to his head to take off his hat, when he realized it was gone. “Where’s my hat?”

Pete opened the fridge, pushing aside Andy’s leftover tofu-and-vegetable-thing and a few tomatoes, then taking out a case of about six beers to plop on the table that creaked under the sudden weight.

“Where’s my goddamn hat?” Brendon repeated.

“It fell off, we picked it up. It should be around here somewhere.” Patrick said, reentering the kitchen with a folding chair that he set up.

“He still hasn’t tried to escape yet.” Andy whispered to Joe.

“Vampires have ears, too, you know.” Brendon snarled, taking a beer and cracking it open. “I could have totally gotten away from all of you if I wanted to.”

“Then why are you here with us mortals?” Andy asked.

“Well, does Beckett know you escaped?” Brendon asked, and took a gulp of beer. It burned his throat soothingly, and he licked his lips satisfyingly.

“By now, I guess so.” Pete said. Patrick finished setting up the rusty folding chair, and sat down next to Pete.

“Well, I was supposed to be the one to follow the police cars to the station to make sure no funny business happened.” Brendon took another sip, and took his hand of cards that Andy was finished dealing. “I only followed halfway, and ditched. You guys had no weapons on you, and the police officers were fucking _vampires._ There was no way you’d escape, and yet,” Brendon lifted his hand of cards, fanning them out in front of his smirk so only his curious eyes showed. “-you did.”

“It’s an interesting story.” Pete said.

“I bet it must be. What game are we playing?” Brendon asked.

“Go Fish.” Patrick said, looking at his own deck of cards and then placing down a pair of twos. Brendon placed down a pair of aces. “So, you betrayed Beckett?”

“I didn’t mean to, but…” Brendon took a swig of beer, and set the nearly-empty bottle down on the table by the neck with a small _clink_. “He’s a bitch, anyway. At first, Ryan and Spencer and Jon and I, we owed him a lot. We were his fucking obedient-ass puppets when the Dandies were only remnants after that huge turf war that nearly decimated both sides. Then, Beckett gained back his power and could afford to be corrupt, and we saw how he really was.”

“Huh.” Pete said. “Who wants to go first at Go Fish?”

“I’ll go first.” Patrick said.

“I want to go first.” Joe said.

“Well, I’m the vampire in the group, and I say my boyfriend goes first.” Pete decided.

“That’s not fair!”

“It is, I saved your ass when you couldn’t shoot that punk.”

“ _You call yourselves hunters?_ ” Joe mimicked, and jumped off the chair and sprinted across the room. Brendon snorted, Andy and Patrick burst out laughing, and Pete cracked a smile.

“Well, Patrick still goes first.” Pete kissed Patrick’s hand.

“You guys are dating?” Brendon asked.

“Yeah. It’s a secret thing.” Patrick shrugged.

“Oh, yeah, Beckett would exploit the hell of that.” Brendon nodded. “I can see why you kept it secret, in my own experience.”

“No, we’re pretty open about it. There’s just not much time to flirt on the battlefield, that’s all.” Pete said.

“Anyone have any eights?” Patrick asked, and Joe sat back down and handed him an eight.

“So, what’s this ‘in my own experience’ stuff about?” Joe asked. “You had a gf or something?”

“Yeah, Ryan was my boyfriend. He was gone before I think you guys starting hunting, which was when Pete was turned a year ago, right? George Ryan Ross was notorious before Beckett erased his name, played right into Beckett’s hands before he saw the light and helped us establish the Dandies again.” Brendon finished off his beer and opened up another one, as Pete unsuccessfully asked for a two and was forced to take a card from the pile. “My turn? Anyone have any… threes?”

Andy reluctantly gave him a three, and Brendon set down his pair.

“So, what happened to Ryan?” Patrick inquired.

“Well, him and Jon started to see how fucked Beckett was. Their fledgling craving for violence faded, and they were tired of it. They wanted Spencer and I to go with them to wherever the fuck they were planning on going. It always kept changing. I think at first they were thinking about Nunavut, don’t ask me why. The plans were finalized to go to London and start a band, because we still had our passports. All of the other Dandies at that time that didn’t want to flee with us were too old and presumed dead for decades, they weren’t keen on leaving their territory for the punks to fake an identity and travel.”

“Fours?” Joe asked. Nobody had any fours.

“So, what happened?” Pete asked.

“Beckett found out about our plans.” Brendon said. “Ryan and Jon got to the airport, but Beckett kept Spencer and I behind. Spencer and I were able to lie that we were planning on catching Ryan and Jon to expose them as traitors, and Beckett somehow believed our ruse, what a dumbass! So, Beckett makes me call Ryan, sobbing, that Beckett was going to kill Spencer and I if they didn’t come back. And you fucking know what happened?” The alcohol had begun to saturate Brendon’s bloodstream, and unfortunately, Brendon Urie was an emotional drunk. Tears began to fall for the first time since Ryan had left him. “Ryan hung up. I guess they made it to London, lucky bastards. They’ve got this goddamn stupid band called ‘The Young Veins’. They’ve got a tour around Europe soon. I bought a ticket for their last date in Barcelona, and I even started brushing up on my Spanish, and a little Catalan, too. I was going to fly to Spain and surprise him and Jon there, just after they thought they thought they were finally safe. I would do something dramatic like kicking down their dressing room door or attacking them while they were on stage. I’d kill them, for leaving Spencer and I behind. Now, Beckett won’t let that happen. He’ll probably have Spencer go instead because he’s actually _competent_ and won’t let them escape. I don’t even want to kill Ryan now, I just started thinking a few days ago that I should just stand in the audience and then beg him for forgiveness or something!”

Everyone at the table looked clueless on what to do as Brendon began to bawl his eyes out. Patrick reached over slowly and rubbed Brendon’s back.

“You know, guys like that are...um, they suck.” Andy tried to reassure. “You deserve way better than him, Urie.”

“Just call me Brendon.” He mumbled. “Oh, oh, and there was this one concert they had where they talked about Spencer and I as the inspiration behind a song. You guys gotta see it. This shit is unbelievable.”

Patrick got his laptop and brought it over, and went to youtube. Brendon typed ‘young veins cape town live’ into the search bar, and then clicked on the first video to show up, a performance in Dublin. The video wasn’t particularly amazing quality, but it did the job.

“Sometimes,” Ryan said into the microphone. “You just have to say fuck it to someone.” The crowd cheered loudly. “This next song is about a friend Jon and I once had. He was my boyfriend, and he was an absolute motherfucking _bitch_. We all have that one ex, and he’s that ex. He betrayed me for some stupid gang, and I hope you’re all recording this, because I want to say: Brendon, fuck you!”

The music began to play, and Brendon slammed the laptop closed. “And that’s why I was so loyal to Beckett after that. Spencer and I had nothing left but the Dandies, and I became Beckett’s little slut to get the second rank. I wanted to send a huge _fuck you_ message to Ryan like he sent to me, but Ryan doesn’t care, and he never will, and even if he did, I have no way to communicate it to him. But when we planned on taking you all hunters out, finally I found my way to tell him I was doing great without him, by making Chicago my _bitch_.”

Brendon buried his head into his hands and sighed. Patrick continued to rub his back comfortingly, avoiding the spots of the suit dotted with blood.

“There’s a lot of better ways to say fuck you to an ex.” Pete said. “You could join our band.”

Andy looked over at Pete, like really?, but Brendon shook his head.

“Thanks for the offer, but not really my thing.”

“You could do a solo career.” Patrick said. “Write a whole album about how much you hate Ryan.”

“I knew a few people in the music business before all of this.” Pete added. “Make a demo and I’ll send it to all of them.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?” Brendon asked. “Beckett said all my dreams are stupid, I belong in Chicago. All of Ryan’s song lyrics and tapes I still had, he destroyed them.”

“Beckett is the stupid one.” Pete said. “As soon as this is all over, we’ll get you on the blood substitute. Patrick is working on a cure, too.”

“A cure?” Brendon gasped, and his face lit up. “Holy fuck, really?”

“Well, it’s nothing definite yet.” Patrick said. “It’s got a long way to go, I only have a few hypotheses, but there’s hope. That is, if we even survive killing Beckett.”

“When do you plan on killing Beckett?” Brendon said. “Who else is helping you? Sooner you kill him, the better. He’s been recruiting new fledglings batshit-crazy since last month.”

“It’s going to be just us. We’ll sneak in during daylight, when everyone is asleep.”

“Good thing you have me,because it’s hidden pretty damn well.” Brendon said. “There will be appointed guards though, Beckett pays the police handsomely to protect the headquarters.”

“Where is it?” Patrick asked.

“The abandoned warehouse on Baker Street, right by the pier.” Brendon said. “Inside, once you get past the police, there’s a large crate you’ll have to move away to get to the stairs to the basement, where we sleep. It’s too heavy for a human to move, though, you’ll have to bring Pete and I along.”

“In the middle of the day?” Patrick asked.

“We’ll figure it out.” Pete said. “I want to kill Beckett myself, no doubt that I’m coming. That fucker will pay for ruining everything at that goddamn party.”

“Great.” Brendon said. “You’re going to have no problem killing the vampires as long as you’re quiet. Beckett is your problem to worry about. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him asleep.”

“It’s going to be sunrise in two hours.” Pete pointed to the clock on the wall. “If we’re going today, we should sleep now.”

“I’ll guard until the sun comes up.” Brendon. “I don’t need as much sleep as you all do.”

Nobody trusted Brendon, but they didn’t distrust him either, and there was no opposition to his offer. They had a fair chance of being killed either way, and they all said goodnight to each other. Patrick put some sheets on the musty couch in the room Brendon had been in before retiring to bed, and Brendon cleaned up all of the cards and put away the remaining beer. He positioned himself in front of the window, and went outside to sit and look up at the stars on the pavement.

It had been so long since Brendon had seen the sun, and the stars had become a substitute that he learned to appreciate. It would be so easy to break the bond he had forged with Fall Out Boy, to kill them and bring their bodies to Beckett, but Brendon would never see the sun. He would never see the light that would reassure him again that the true purpose of life was not violence and dominance. Fall Out Boy had opened an ear and held out a hand of friendship to an enemy, and Brendon had taken it, and now, his life would be different. It would change.

“Is the sunrise still pink?” Brendon asked a bypasser. Of course it was still pink and orange and yellow, what a silly question, but he needed to know.

“Yeah?” The pedestrian stopped and looked at him funnily, pointing his sharp jawline down at him. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. I haven’t seen it in a while, that’s all.” Brendon said.

“Well, it’s starting in an hour.” The man said.”I’m Dallon. You want to, um, come see it with me or something? We could get some breakfast and coffee or something at my place. My roof has a great view.”

“You ever heard of vampires, Dallon?” Brendon asked, grinning wide with his fangs and gesturing to his Dandy suit.

“Oh.” Dallon looked down at him. “You’re a vampire. One of those fancy Dandies. I thought this was hunter territory?”

“I’m leaving that life behind, I guess you could say.” Brendon stood up, tracing his fingers down Dallon’s shoulder to his fingers. “What’s your phone number?”

“Oh, um, I’ll give it to you.” Dallon said. “You got a phone?”

“I’ll buy a new one soon.” Brendon bitterly remembered that Fall Out Boy had most definitely taken his cell phone, as his pockets felt strangely empty suddenly. “You got a pen? You can write it on my arm.”

“Oh, yea!” Dallon said gleefully, unable to hold back a tiny burst of excitement, and fumbled in his pockets to reveal and unsheath a black sharpie. Brendon rolled up his sleeves and held it out, and Dallon scrawled down the numbers: _173-0026_

“Thank you.” Brendon leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to Dallon’s cheek, then whispered in his ear, “I’ll call you if I survive, which I will, of course. I’m Brendon.”

“Wait, Brendon Urie?” Dallon asked, and Brendon confirmed with a small Mhm. “You should probably go back inside. Beckett is tearing heads off on everyone’s territory searching for you.”

“Really?” Brendon asked. “You sure you don’t want to go inside with me until sunrise?”

“No thanks, I’ve got business.” Dallon said. “Talk to you soon, Brendon.”

Dallon left one goodbye-kiss on Brendon’s lips, and they parted ways for the moment. Brendon went back inside, and Dallon took out the stake he was carrying in the pocket of his bulky jacket as he headed toward punk territory.


End file.
